


Two Idiots Falling In Love In Paris

by cottagecore_tea



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Avril Lavigne References, Bisexual Simon Snow, Fluff, Gay Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Simon, One Shot, POV Simon, Paris (City), Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottagecore_tea/pseuds/cottagecore_tea
Summary: So this was a complete self indulgent story I wrote to keep myself busy in quarantine meaning this is filled with cheesy tropes and a lot of tackling.Follow Simon as he sees how many times he can embarrass himself on a trip to Paris. Through murdered crepes and late night shenanigans, Simon finds himself actually falling for his enemy. Hopefully he won't completely self destruct, especially when he sees Baz dressed in a bloody corset.
Relationships: Dev & Niall & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow & Agatha Wellbelove, Simon Snow & Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	Two Idiots Falling In Love In Paris

Day One  
‘Summer 2020 Paris Trip’

It was the last week of term and still The Mage had some sort of trick up his sleeve. Due to the man’s connections with Merlin knows who, he had managed to acquire an all expenses (minus lunches and any bits and bobs students would like to pick up there) school trip to Paris. The head of languages, Miss Possibelf thought it would be a great opportunity for the French students to ‘immerse themselves in the culture’ and truly hone their skills before graduating. Personally, Simon finds that a load of bullshit. She just wants a free trip to France.

Naturally, Penny would be going on the trip, she’s the top student… next to Baz. Sadly, Simon did not take French. He wasn’t actually allowed to take it. Apparently in order to pick up another language, he had to be at least passing in his own native language and as for his marks in English, well they weren’t exactly high.

Currently, Simon was sitting next to Penny, definitely not sulking. “Simon, will you please stop sulking.” Okay maybe he was sulking but it wasn’t his fault, he just wanted to go on that bloody school trip. “How come he gets to go and I don’t?” Penny looked at Simon with a single eyebrow raised, “Who?” Simon went to speak when his shorter friend immediately cut him off, “You know what? Pretend I didn’t ask that. Maybe if you got your grades up you could have gone on this trip too.”

“It’s not fair”, he sighed, “Baz probably has like a bazillion tutors, all I have is me and my stupid brain.” Penny wrapped her arm around him, giving him a tight squeeze, “It will only be for like a week, and then I’ll be right back with you and we can go on our very own holiday.” “Pen I don’t think a trip to Manchester for a weekend is the same as Paris.” “Well look on the bright side. At least you’re not having to spend almost a whole week with Baz.” Simon simply rolled his eyes.

He knew he was being silly, really. It was just that Baz was probably going to go on about five holidays just this summer, Paris will seem boring in comparison to the places he could afford. Simon had barely been out of London. On top of that, Penny would be there too, leaving Simon alone for the start of summer. The plan was to stay over at Agatha’s for the first month while Penny got everything sorted for their new flat together but that wasn’t really going to happen now. She just had to go and dump him at the start of the year. Now they just sort of floated near each other, not exactly ignoring each other, but not really talking either.

When the bell for lunch went Penny told Simon she would meet him on the outside fields, she just had to grab something from the library quickly. That was thirty minutes ago. Now Simon is left sitting alone watching little first years kick a ball while munching on a mint aero bar.

Across the field he can see Baz lying under a tree with his eyes closed. Even in the summer heat Baz somehow manages to remain as white as a sheet of paper, which doesn’t really make sense since Simon could have sworn the twat was actually part Egyptian or something. Back when they were twelve, Simon had an ongoing bet with Penny that he was actually a vampire. It made sense at the time, he never liked the sun and it would help to explain why he was always so strong when they fought. That theory was soon put to rest when he realised how much Baz liked to look at himself. Every time the boy passed a reflective surface he would run his hand through his hair, slicking it back with that gross gel he always had on him. Simon preferred when he just wore his hair loose. As most people know Vampires can’t see their own reflection, so there went Simon’s theory.

The only warning Simon had before being tackled was the sound of loud footsteps barrelling towards him. The boy went rolling down the hill, with a figure right on top of him pinning him to the ground. He looked up to find Penny practically beaming at him, her teeth on full display and chest moving rapidly, clearly out of breath. “I did it!” she shouted laughing. “Well done!” Simon replied, matching her enthusiasm not really sure what they were talking about. “Do you know what this means?” “I have no clue what’s happening right now but I’m guessing something good.” Beside him he hears a snort, “As if your simple mind ever knows what’s going on.” He looked to the source of the voice, only to realise he and Penny had rolled to the bottom of the hill, right at Baz’s feet. “Oh sod off.”

As though finally realising the position she was in, with her skirt hiked up, and still pinning her best friend in front of a class mate, Penny quickly jumped up pulling Simon up with her. “Simon! You might be able to come to France with us.” The boy’s face completely lit up, a smile matching Penny’s previous one, yet before he could say another word Baz butted in, “Since when did Snow become fluent in French.”

Simon stared down at the boy with a scowl, “Since when did you become such a prick? Oh wait, you were always one.” “W…was that supposed to be clever?” “No.” “Thank Merlin for that.”

Simon turned back to his friend, desperately trying to ignore the taller boy. “But how? I don’t even take French?” “Well I spoke to The Mage-” “You spoke to the head teacher? When?” “Just then.” “I thought you were getting something from the library.” “I lied. Anyway”, Penny practically shouted, desperate to get back on track, “I spoke to The Mage and apparently not enough pupils signed up for the trip so now there are five extra places so the school has decided to hold a race for any eighth year who wants to go. The top five will get to go on the trip!” Utterly filled with joy, Simon picks up Penny and spins her in a circle, a massive giggle escaping him. “This is going to be the best summer ever!”

“That’s assuming you actually win the race. Bit ambitious isn’t it Snow? Even for you.” Penny and Simon turn to Baz simultaneously shouting “Shut up.”

The race was to be held during last period leaving Simon just enough time to stock up on a few packets of crisps and Lucozade bottles for ‘energy’. The eighth years were to meet at the school pitch. By the time Simon and Penny arrived the place was already packed with sweating teenagers, some sitting on the side-lines ready to watch and support their friends while others stood stretching and doing jumping jacks, preparing. Simon simply stood with Penny chatting, his feet doing little skips trying to contain his excitement. “Just think about Penny. You and me taking on the whole of France. Think about the food.” “Think about the books!” “Boo! Come on think bigger than that.” He exclaimed. “At least I can think past my stomach.” “Hey!”

Penny looked at Simon with a growing look of worry. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be stretching or something like the others?” “Relax Pen. It’s just a race. How hard could it be? Besides I’m great at running.” She grunted, “No Simon, you’re great at running away from things.” “If it helps, I’ll just picture Baz chasing after me because I messed up his books or spilt tea on his suit.” “Right. Make sure to let me know how that goes when I’m standing up the Eiffel tower with no one but Baz for company.”

“Don’t forget I’ll be there too.” Simon turns around to see Agatha running over, in all her mini skirt glory. When she finally stopped to stand next to them, she began to yank off her tie and undo her top button leaving Simon far too creepily staring at her neck. He was quickly brought out of his fixation by a sharp jab to the ribs by Penny.

Agatha turned to Simon, “Good luck with the race Si! Dad would be so happy to know you were on the school trip and not sitting alone for the start of summer.” “Um… yeah.” “Anyway, I promised Baz I would go sit with him. See you two later.” And with that she was gone. Simon gave a grunt turning back to his friend.

“What is she doing sitting with that knobhead?” “Well I don’t know. Something about the dark mysterious kind is appealing to her I guess.” “I can be dark and mysterious.” Simon huffed, crossing his arms. “No. No you can’t.”

“Anyway. When did Agatha magically learn French?” “What? Simon! She’s been in the same French class as me since third year.” “No she hasn’t!” “Honestly, you wonder why she broke up with you. You managed to memorise Baz’s entire itinerary in the space of a week but didn’t know your three-year long girlfriend done French.” Simon sighed, looking over to her with a lost expression.

He knew exactly why she broke up with him. Simon was boring and predictable. Since the moment they met everyone knew they would go out. He thought she was the one. He even gave her his favourite jacket… which she later threw back at him during her dumping of him. She was his everything, but apparently that still wasn’t enough. He tried to give her the world, but she thought he would give up his universe for Baz. Which is ridiculous. He wasn’t completely obsessed with him, he was just cautious. As anyone would be with their arch nemesis.

Simon sighed, “Of course Agatha is fluent in French. Is there anything she can’t do?” “Pick a lad…” “Penny!” She simply huffed, grabbing Simon by the arm and dragging him to the other runners. She moved her hand to his shoulders, gripping tightly. “Do not lose this. Got it?” “Gee thanks for all the support.” “You don’t need it. You’re going to win and this time next month we’ll be munching on all the macarons your heart desires. So go out there and run.”

And that is exactly what he did.

Simon ran with all his heart. He bolted past Trixie, his feet kicking up fake grass. His heart began to hammer through his chest. By the time he got to the end his legs felt like they were about to fly right off. All in all coming first felt fucking fantastic. The other four runner ups tackled Simon, all of them grinning and sweating, laughing their heads off.

They had done it. They were going to France. Take that Baz. Around them there were cheers from the other students. As Simon made his way over to Penny, he felt an array of slaps on his back and clapping. With the sun beating on his face, Simon felt on top of the world. He could feel The Mage’s eyes on him, a proud look on his face, Simon shuddered.

In an attempt to ignore the headmaster’s gaze he turned his head to Baz who was, as a shocker, utterly ignoring Agatha. As they made eye contact, Simon realized Baz had already been staring at him. Unsure what to do in that moment, Simon put on his biggest grin and stuck his middle finger up at the boy. Penny rushed over to him for the second time that day, giving him a tight hug. “We’re going to France!”  
This was going to be the best summer ever.

The plane was at 6:30 pm leading Simon and the rest of his classmates to arrive at precisely 3pm. After security and all the boring stuff Simon couldn’t really give a toss about, he, Penny and Agatha all sat down at some sort of café in the airport for a very, emphasis on very, late breakfast. Why they didn’t just eat dinner like regular people, well it was the only thing that was open. Simon sat scoffing on sausages and beans whilst Agatha sat glaring at him.

“Must you eat like such a pig?” He ignored her, too busy guzzling a glass of orange juice. Penny sat with a map in front of her with a bunch of circles randomly dotted about. He pointed a finger at one asking, “What are those?” “Those, are all the bookshops and museums I want to visit while we’re in Paris. And get your greasy hands off it, you’re dropping egg on my map.” She huffed, pulling the map away from him.

At the table next to them sat Baz and his two cronies, Niall and Devin. Baz sat sipping on a cup of coffee while the other attacked a stack of pancakes. In the entire time the two had known each other, Simon had never seen the other boy actually eat a meal. Maybe he was anorexic? Or maybe he just thought it wasn’t the right decorum. Was he using that word right? Anyway, even after leaving school the prat managed to annoy him.

  
Once they had sufficiently stuffed themselves with greasy airport food, the class had to reconvene with their teachers where the seating chart for the plane would be read out. The Mage stood at the front of the crowd, a clipboard in hand. Everyone was bursting with excitement, unable to sit still or shut up, well they were unable to until Ebb, the school’s English teacher shouted for everyone to shut it and listen. He rattled off names telling students to pair up with their partner before they planned to board. Five minutes had passed and Simon’s name hadn’t been called. Penny was paired up with Trixie, much to her dismay. Apparently the girl was way too talkative to Penny, and always crying about her girlfriend. Penny gave a grunt before storming up to her seat mate.

Simon sat watching the crowd grow smaller and smaller until only he and Baz were left. You had got to be fucking kidding. Simon bolted over to the mage, clearly distressed. “Sir, can I please switch seats!” “I’m sorry Simon but this is a matter of health and safety. You have to sit next to your assigned partner.” “But sir! My health and safety will be at risk if you force me to sit next to this arrogant-” “Enough Simon! You will sit next to Basilton and behave. You better learn to restrain yourself if I allow you to board that plane.”

Simon shrunk into himself, trying to appear as small as possible. “Yes sir.” Simon bolted over to Penny, quick to rant to her about his predicament. “Oh it’s only one flight Simon.” “It’s just one bloody flight, and then next thing you know, the Mage will have us sharing a room and walking down the seen holding hands.” Baz came up from behind him, clearly just as pissed as Simon, “I beg your pardon… the seen?” “I thought you were supposed to be all smart. You know, that big river in Paris?” “The Seine?” “That’s what I said!”

So that’s how Simon found himself shoved in a tight plane seat next to Baz. The one perk was that he got the window seat meaning he could look out onto the clouds. Well that would be a perk if Simon wasn’t utterly terrified of flying which he discovered only moments before take-off.

“My ears hurt! Are they supposed to be hurting? Should the wing be wobbling like that?” Baz huffed as he shoved his hand into a packet of chewing gum chucking one into his mouth before offering Snow a different piece. Well he didn’t so much offer, as order him, “Here shove this in your mouth and don’t stop chewing until the plane stops rising.” Simon eyed him, distracted by what felt like his impending doom, “Why?” Baz snarled at him, “Because if you don’t, you could seriously hurt your ears.” “Since when did you care whether I’m hurt or not.” “Snow, I could not give a single toss about that. But an in pain Snow equals a loud berk who won’t let me sleep.”

Hesitantly Snow took the chewing gum and began to bite down hard.

As the plain drifted in the air, Baz tried to shut his eyes and sleep. Beside him, restless as always Simon began to tap his hands on his tray. He examined the clouds floating by, an impending doom washing over him. He heard a loud sigh from beside him, “Will you stop bouncing your leg like a demented rabbit! I’m trying to sleep here.” “Fuck off. Someone’s got his panties in a twist.” “For your own safety, Snow. I strongly suggest you keep your thought out of my ‘panties’.”

Simon’s face went bright red as he sunk into his seat wishing he could die right then and there. Trust him to get stuck with this tosser. Well it could be worse, he could have to share a room with the prat.

He had to share a room with the prat.

In terms of rooms The Mage had come up with the shitty plan to pull names out of a hat. In a random baseball cap sat all of the girls’ names and in Ebb’s bobble hat sat the boys’ names. Agatha and Penny managed to score a room together on the fourth floor. Including their teachers, their class took up two floors. When Simon went up to pull out his partners name he sent a silent prayer to whatever God was listening to pair him with someone good. If he got put in a room with Gareth that would be brilliant. He would even take Niall or Devin over Baz. Just anyone but Baz. Please. His hand shot into the hat, careful to fully rummage around it until he stopped on one specific piece. He finally stopped when he came across a certain piece.

He didn’t know why but something was telling him to pull out this one. Either that or he was just getting impatient. He pulled it out, and unravelled the small paper. He stared at it. Then kept staring. Still staring. The universe was cruel and there was no God. He pointed at Baz, a frown taking over his face, “You did this!” “What?” “Was this some sort of sick joke?”

Baz stood beside his cronies glaring at Simon in his stupid boater shoes. “I beg your pardon.” “You heard me. There is no way this could happen. Twice.” “Snow if this is your convoluted way of telling me we’re roommates I would rather you just came out with it instead of yelling at me like a mad man.” Simon whipped his head round to The Mage, obviously looking for back up. “Nope.” “Nope?” “Nope.” The older man sighed, obviously too tired for Simon’s nonsense. “Simon this isn’t optional. If the paper says Basilton, then he is your roommate.” “But what if he wasn’t?”

Baz marched over to the two, carrying his undeniably expensive suitcase along with him. The prat probably had more clothes in there than Simon had in his entire wardrobe back home. “Sir you cannot put me in the same room as this obviously clinically insane buffoon.” “The draw is final. Now head up to your rooms and prepare for bed. It has been an excruciatingly long day and frankly we could all do with a long nights sleep.” The Mage shouted shoving a key card into Simon’s hand, sending them off.

Simon dragged his suitcase to his room while steam practically flowed out of his ears. He took the key card out, slamming the door open before stopping in his tracks. He examined the room in front of him with a clear look of disgust. “I’m going back to England.” Baz peered over his shoulder, clearly confused.

“What are you- oh?” Of course there was one bloody bed. Why wouldn’t there be? Simon never should have come on this godforsaken trip. Deep down he knew it made sense, the school was taking up so many rooms and in one of the busiest tourist times. The other part of Simon was convinced that this was just The Mage’s way of letting out his anger towards his behaviour. Either way, Simon was not sticking around. He went to storm out the door when Baz grabbed him by the t-shirt and all but threw him into the room. Their suitcases crashed to the floor with a loud bang. “Oh get over yourself. Now sit there and unpack. I’m going to have a shower.”

Baz pulled his suitcase open, grabbing a pair of pyjamas, silk, typical, and practically ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Simon sat for a minute simply seething before he got up, composed himself and went to change into pair of grey joggies and an old shirt from fourth year. He had filled out a little since then, both due to his growth spurt a year back and the number of roast potatoes he ate for lunch each day. Just as he went to put on the top, his eyes landed on the bed. He examined it with a scowl, trying to determine what the best plan of action would be before he reached the conclusion he would sleep on the floor.

Just as he was about to steal the sheet off of the bed, Baz sunk back into their bedroom, his hair still dripping wet, falling over his eyes. He neatly folded his clothes and placed them onto his case, taking a suspiciously long time. He finally turned back to Simon, only now realising his lack of clothing.

“Did your mother never teach you common decency?” “What?” “Snow, you’re walking around half naked.” Simon simply rolled his eyes. “Never been in a changing room before?” “As a matter of fact I have but what may have escaped you is that our hotel room is not in fact one.” Simon grunted, flinging himself onto the bed and dumped his shirt onto the floor for no real reason other than to piss the other boy off. It clearly worked since next thing he knew, Baz’s face was bright red and he was muttering to himself.

Too tired to unpack both boys simply sat on the bed staring down the other. Overcome with tiredness, Simon finally stood up stretching his arms, cracking his back, “Look I’ll-” “I’m taking the bed.” Simon stared at him shocked. “I was about to offer to sleep on the floor but no. Now I’m taking the bed.” “Don’t be absurd. I’m sure you’re no stranger to crappy sleeping arrangements.” Simon clenched his fist, ready for a fight, “And what’s that supposed to mean?” “Only that wherever you live with your family of chavs, I’m sure sleeping on the floor is an upgrade.” He was so close to killing the bastard. “Well then someone so deprived as me should have the privilege of sleeping on the bed. Plus, I’m already sitting on it. What are you going to do, throw me off it?” He wished he could. Baz flung himself onto his back with an obnoxious smile. “Well see now I’m actually lying on it.” Simon threw the covers over himself, properly settling in the bed. “Yeah well I’m actually in it.” “I guess we’re both sleeping in it then.” “I guess we are.” Simon all but growled.

They lay in silence until one of them got up the courage to speak again. Simon turned to Baz with a sneer, “I guess I should turn off the light then.” By the time he had got back from crossing the room to flip the switch, Baz had set up a makeshift barrier between the two out of pillows. “What’s this?” “Protection.”

He was utterly impossible, “Protection from what?” “From you breathing in the same air as me while I try to sleep.”

Simon slammed himself into the bed, tugging the covers over his body and throwing his socks off. “Fine with me.” The pair made it to around ten minutes before someone spoke again. They had lay restlessly in the bed with Simon tossing and turning, his eyes squeezed shut and hands groping at the pillows, ensuring they were sturdy between them. He turned his body to face the other boy, not being able to see him in the darkness and hoping Baz was having just as hard of a time sleeping as he was.

“If you kill me in my sleep, just know I will come back and haunt you as a ghost.” The figure beside him gave a quiet snort, his voice sounding groggy, as though already succumbing to the night’s dreams, “Only you could find a way to annoy me even in the afterlife.”

Day 2

Simon woke up with a pillow to the face. It slammed over him with a large whack. Startled the boy shot up looking frantically around the room for the attacker. In front of him stood Baz, fully dressed and chucking on a jacket. “Did you just assault me with a bloody pillow?” Baz looked down at him with a wicked grin, “We slept in and supposed to be meeting the rest of the class down at reception in ten minutes.” Simon bolted out of bed, not caring about his surroundings, chucking his bottoms off and throwing on an old pair of jeans and the white t-shirt he neglected to put on the night before. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” “Just be glad I woke you up at all.”

After throwing on his shoes and locking up, the two strutted down the hall, throwing themselves into the lift, eager to meet up with everyone else. Whilst the lift slowly descended Baz sneered at Simon with a look of revulsion. “You forgot to brush your hair, and teeth for that matter. Honestly it’s like sleeping with a dog.” Simon examined his reflection in the mirrors around him. Baz was right (for once). His hair was all tangled and dishevelled and his shirt was on bloody backwards. Simon took the shirt off, quick to put it on the right way before tugging at his hair hoping to restore some order to it. “Snow stop that. Snow! You’re going to go bald doing that.” The lift began to play some weird cheery French music Simon couldn’t understand. “Oh yeah, well what do you suggest I do then?” Baz simply ignored him, sticking his hand into his trouser pocket and pulling out a comb for the boy. “Take it. I am not walking around Paris with someone looking like they’ve just rolled out of bed.” “I have just rolled out of bed.”

As Simon slowly brushed his hair he, for the first time that morning, properly looked at Baz. The boy was dressed as formal as ever. He wore a pair of dark trousers that ever so slightly hugged his legs and a burgundy button down shirt with short sleeves rolled up giving an effortless look to the outfit that clearly required a lot of effort. Trust Baz to dress all smart and proper for bloody breakfast.

The two met up with the others and set off into the streets of Paris, but not before a small rant from Miss Posbilief about tardiness. As they stepped outside Simon couldn’t help but gasp. Too wound up from the terrible flight plus the dark night and ever growing sleepiness, Simon neglected to truly take in where he was yesterday. The group began to weave through different Parisian buildings, the sun peaking up just between them lighting the streets up in a warm glow.

Soon they arrived at a small café hiding in a tight alleyway among a few independent boutiques. Outside hung an array of flowers, with a single blue petal falling onto Simon’s nose. His eyes crossed trying to take a look at the small flower. Next to him Penny gave a little giggle before plucking it off his face and gently flicking it onto the floor.

Once through the door Simon realised the place was just as beautiful on the inside. The walls were painted in a deep green and the furniture was a dark red. Among the tables sat massive house plants and flowers creating the feeling as though he had just wandered into some secret garden. Eager to eat, Simon made a B line to a small table tucked into the corner before being pulled back by Agatha, her freshly manicured nails digging into his arm. “Actually Penny and I were talking to Devin and we decided it might be nice if we all sat together.” Simon looked at her utterly confused, “You mean sit with Baz, and his cronies” “Hey Gareth and Rhys will be there too.” “But why?”

Agatha’s lip quivered as she held onto him just a little closer, “Oh please Simon. We’ve already graduated, isn’t it about time you move on from this stupid rivalry.” Simon just stared at her. “Please. For me Si.”

Giving in, Simon let out a quiet huff as he shuffled his feet over to a larger table where the other five boys and Penny were waiting. He sunk into his seat, shooting a glare at Penny, “Traitor.” She simply rolled her eyes and whispered, “She promised me a book if we canoodle.” Simon let out a quiet snort, “You sound like a gran.”

Soon a waitress appeared at the table. She was tall with a cute bob and fringe. Her dark hair complimented her otherwise pale skin. Her cheekbones were fairly hollow, creating a Dracula-esque look. She was stunning. Upon ordering, Simon fumbled over his words and messed up what he wanted at least four times before Baz eventually cut him off with a cruel laugh, ordering for himself a tea. He watched the waitress leave with a doting look. Across from him Agatha gave Baz a little nudge and overly sweet laugh. “Freaky.” The boy rose a single eyebrow trying to seem as uninterested as possible. Wanker.

“What?” “She was like a female Baz.” Devon and Niall began to laugh, banging their hands on the table snorting. Gareth turned to Simon with a cheeky smile. “Looks like someone had the hots for girly Baz.” Simon looked at them in distress. “What! She looked nothing like him.” Even Penny didn’t believe his bluff. “You really don’t see it?” “She was like a Gothic goddess.”

“Well thank you for the lovely compliment Snow.” Simon stared at Baz, trying to slowly murder him with his mind. “Fuck off, she looked nothing like you. You are a sun deprived tory twat who looks like he hasn’t ate in about three weeks.” Penny gave him a little pat to the shoulder and pathetic smile, “Sure Simon.”

When the waitress returned she placed their tea, croissants and fruit onto their table. All of them too preoccupied by the spread to notice the waitress slip something onto the table until Simon was on his fifth croissant, utterly slathered in butter. Baz looked at Simon with a look of revulsion. “If you eat any more of those you’re going to actually turn into a croissant.” Agatha smothered her laughter into her cup. Beside her a voice snorted, “Or throw one up on the Eiffel tower.” “No one asked you Devin.”

Gareth shouted over, clearly annoyed by his close proximity to Agatha. Just how many guys were after her? Simon inwardly sighed. He watched as Agatha took notice of the little piece of paper on the table picking it up and reading. Curious, Penny lent over, snatching it out of her hand and examining it for herself. “Oh my God!”

Simon took a look too. She had actually left her number for one of them. “Who do you think it’s for?” Penny looked at him, “Obviously you, she was practically throwing herself at you.” What? “No she wasn’t.” “Did you not see her when she gave us our tea? She winked!” “No she did not!” “She did so.” Simon scanned the café trying to look for the waitress. “She was definitely not flirting with me Pen.” Agatha gave him a knowing look. “No woman just accidentally leaves their number on a table.”

For the next five minutes the group argued over who it was for whilst Baz simply leant back in his chair enjoying his tea. When going to pay the bill, the woman came back looking slightly flushed. She set down the bill and looked over to Penny with a small smile. In a thick French accent she grabbed her hand, much to the smaller girls shock, and said “You call, no?” Gobsmacked, Penny simply nodded, her face quickly rising with heat. With that the waitress scurried off leaving the group to sit in silence, which was inevitably broken by Simon. “I told you she wasn’t flirting with me!” Agatha sat utterly still, observing the other girl. “Who knew dumpy geeks were so popular here.”

Soon, their tables were cleared and the class headed back out. They were given free range for a while so the group decided to examine some of the nearby shops. Simon watched as Agatha dragged Baz into one expensive shop after the other until Devin and Gareth managed to pull her away into some sweet shop. Niall and Rhys stood next to each other glaring at their friends, clearly pissed at being ditched. Penny was about to walk into some old bookshop when Simon halted. In the corner of his eye he saw Baz creep into a dark building. Curious as to what the other boy was up to, he left Penny equally abandoned with a quick “I’ll be back in a sec!” as he chased after the taller boy. He came to a stop in front of the building. It was one of those hole in the wall shops with its dark exteriors clashing greatly with the lime walls of surrounding buildings. On the window sat a name he didn’t recognise, no doubt one of Baz’s posh designers he personally knew. Without a second thought, Simon burst into the shop.

What the bloody hell?

This was most definitely not what Simon was expecting. Inside the shop were rails of clothing scattered about, each piece more outrageous than the other. On the wall hung corsets and bondage dresses. On one of the racks were an array of leather jackets, some studded, some torn and some covered in patches? Right among the platform boots and tartan trousers stood Baz, examining some sort of chained item of clothing. “What the fuck?” Baz shot his head up, the look on his face unlike anything Simon could have expected. “Snow?” “This is not the kind of place I expected to find you.” Simon chuckled, leaning back onto one of the manikins. Baz frowned.

“I wouldn’t lean on that if I was you. That blazer costs more than anything you could even dream of making.” “Sod off. It looks cheap as shit. Look the arms aren’t even equal.” Simon went to examine the price tag, eager to piss Baz off until he looked at its actual number. “That’s bloody extortionate.” Baz tutted, “That’s fashion.” “What are you even doing in a shop like this? A little rugged for you aint it? Can’t imagine daddy Baz letting you wear this stuff.” Baz’s expression hardened, Simon obviously touching a nerve. Instead of dignifying him with a response, he simply stormed out the shop in a huff. Simon raced him outside only to find Baz had already made his way to Agatha, gripping her tightly by the waist and whispering something into her ear. The two headed off in another direction with Baz sending a smirk to Simon as some sort of silent fuck you.

The group continued to browse through shops until Ebb called them all back. It was time to head to the Eiffel tower. The group set out, walking along the Seine, talking about how exited they were and showing off everything they had bought. Penny and Rhys were currently discussing some book when Simon decided to butt in, voicing his typical stupid thoughts aloud. “So why do people care about some stupid tower anyway?”

Penny stopped dead in her tracks. “Simon,” she stated in a dangerously low voice, “I love you like a brother but if you call the sodding Eiffel Tower stupid once more I’m going to chuck you off it myself.” “I just mean, why do people love it so much?” “Simon there is nothing like it in the entire world!” “What about them mini ones in Vegas.” Penny slapped her face in defeat, thankfully Baz was there to provide some ‘helpful support’, “Well not only was it once the tallest building in France, it has also provided extreme importance for scientist in France, using it to help conduct experiments. Do you enjoy being such an ignorant twat?” Simon didn’t care about this new information. It was just a pointy building. Yet to avoid having Penny physically murder him, he opted to keep that thought to himself.

After about an hour of queuing and the longest lift ride of his entire life, they were finally at the top. The sun was slowly setting in the distance, causing the structure to turn on its lights which dazzled in the darkening sky. Simon and Penny stood side by side as they took in the view. Simon felt like he was on top of the world. As though wings had sprouted on his back and he was soaring over the Parisian sky. The figures in the distance looked like meagre specs. Up there, Simon felt both in flight and utterly grounded. Like the whole of France was orbiting around him.

He and Penny shared a smile. “Promise me we’ll come back here. Once we move into our flat and become real adults. We can even bring Micah if you like?” Penny’s heart soared, placing her pinkie over her, “Promise.”

The two stayed like that for a while before deciding to take pictures, some of simply the view, then they called over Agatha to take some group photos. Agatha wrapped her arm around Penny while Simon placed two fingers over the girls’ head creating little bunny ears as a passing tourist took their pictures. Penny’s faced had scrunched tightly mid laugh while Agatha gave one of her rare honest smiles. Simon… Simon accidently blinked with his tongue poking out of a cheeky grin. Overall the picture was perfect.

Deciding to meet up with the rest of the gang, the three split up in search for the others. Simon found Baz perched in a quiet corner, looking out onto city, his head resting on his arms which dangled from the banister. He looked oddly sad. Giving no thought to social cues, Simon trotted right over to him, sitting his arms beside Baz. “Enjoying the view?”

Baz jumped, clearly startled by Simon. Quickly trying to play it off as though he did not just absolutely piss himself, Baz turned to Simon with a cool stare, “I was until your face entered it.” Simon nocked his arm into the other boy’s, quickly trying to give a retort, “I’ll enter you in a minute!” Simon did not just shout that. What the hell was wrong with him? Baz stared at him as though he didn’t truly believe what just came out of the other boy’s mouth. “You most certainly will not.”

Simon grunted, embarrassed and wishing his existence away. “Sod off.” “You came over to me.”

Before heading back to the hotel, the class stopped off at a food truck among a little outside square. At the centre sat a fountain with all kinds of intricate sculptures each piece having water cascade from them. Simon sat chatting to Gareth about a football match while inhaling a slice of his pizza. The sky was now pitch black with a few stars shining around them. Across the square a few of the teachers sat chatting over bottles of something that most definitely contained alcohol.

Baz once again refused to eat, instead opting to sit and chat with Agatha whilst dipping his hand into the fountain, the cool water dancing along his fingers. Simon watched with an odd intensity, drowning out the surrounding voices. It wasn’t until he felt a cold splash hit him in the face that he realized he had completely zoned out. Next to him Baz began to look around them, pretending to look for some made up culprit, all the while holding in a laugh. It. Was. On.

Simon scooped up a handful of water before proceeding to launch it over Baz’s chest. He looked at him in utter outrage. “You’re going to regret that.” “Oh yeah? Try me.” Next thing he knew, a large amount of water was being deposited onto his trousers, leaving his crotch utterly soaked. A few splashed later and the boys were practically tackling each other into the water. Baz had Simon pinned over the fountain, his hair being dipped directly into its freezing water. The two wrestled back in forth, each growing more and more soaked by the second until Niall and Penny physically pried to the two boys off of each other. “Honestly you two! Grow up!” Penny huffed.

She helped pick up Simon, his sopping wet limbs dripping all over her skirt. “Sorry Pen.” “No. You two are going to apologise to each other like responsible adults.” Baz and Simon looked at each other, shocked, as though being told off by a teacher. Simon threw himself back down onto the fountains ledge, “I am not apologising to that prick.” Agatha, who apparently had been there the entire time, piped in, “You most certainly are. Look Baz will go first. You’ll say you’re sorry won’t you.” She asked in that voice which clearly indicates it’s not really a question but a command. “I’m sorry Snow is such a fucking idiot.” “Well I’m sorry Baz is a conceited twat.” Agatha and Penny share a glance, “Right then you two can spend the rest of the trip together because none of us-” Penny gestured to the rest of their group who were all watching them, clearly amused, “want to be walking around with a bunch of children.”

Simon scuffed his trainers on the floor failing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “Sorry too.” Baz replied, the words escaping him at an unbelievably rapid rate. “Good now Simon, here you go.” Penny handed Simon a crepe she had somehow managed to hide, chucking it at him with a smile.

Not long after, the class decided to head back to the hotel. This lead Simon to stroll along the streets clutching a crepe tightly in his hand, his mouth slowly savouring it in all its sweet glory. So caught up in his snack, he hadn’t realised just how far he had drifted from the group, leaving him a few steps behind them with Baz right next to him. With a scowl, Simon turned to the boy, “I’m not sorry by the way.” Baz snorted. “The only thing I’m sorry about is that you’re a great oaf I have the displeasure of seeing every day.” Simon growled back. Yes growled. What could he say, the boy was easily flustered and when the boy was flustered apparently he becomes practically illiterate.

Baz gave Simon a quick once over before deciding to do the cruellest thing of all. He raised his hand and slapped Simon’s crepe onto the floor, leaving the blonde to stand there, mourning the loss of his snack. If you look close enough you may even have caught the tear falling down his face.

Later that night Simon threw himself into a pair of joggies, this time with a shirt and simply stared at the wall, his arse firmly rooted to the bed. Baz had just finished setting an alarm for the next morning when he noticed Simon’s bleak expression. “Who died?” Simon gave a long wistful sigh. “My crepe.” Baz grunted in a way that almost verbalised his thoughts, them being “Can you believe this idiot?” Simon just kept staring at the wall, his hand tightly holding onto the deep red silk covers.

In a hushed whisper he uttered, “I miss my crepe.” Already fed up with his melodramatics Baz walked in front of Simon, disrupting his view of the wall, “Just get another one tomorrow.” “It won’t be the same.”

Baz ignored the boy instead choosing to simply switch off the light and tuck himself in the bed, ignoring Simon’s grump. Simon sat in the darkness for a while, trying to let go of his anger but failing miserably. In the dark of night a loud grumble swarmed the room. It took him a while to realise that the noise was actually coming from his stomach.

A few seconds later it done it again. Next to him he felt Baz’s legs shift, as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. Even in the pitch black Simon could feel the paler boy’s annoyance. “For Merlin’s sake Snow. If you’re so hungry just go down the hall to the vending machine and grab something.” Simon stared at him, an embarrassed look taking over him as he mumbled something Baz couldn’t quiet hear. “What was that?” “I… I don’t have any money.” “Then bloody use mine!” Simon stood in surprise. “What? No way in hell am I spending your money. I don’t need your charity.” Baz stood up as well, walking over to Simon as though he was about to fight him yet instead he said, “It’s not bloody charity. How do you expect me to wake up at six am when your stomach is going off all night long?”

Simon just glared at him. “Okay if it makes you feel any better I’ll even buy something myself.”

Simon pondered it for a second, his mind and stomach battling for dominance. Before he could give in, a thought popped into his head. “We’re not supposed to leave our rooms after eleven.” “So?” “’So?’ It’s like half one. It would be a suicide mission.” Baz giggled, he bloody giggled, “I don’t think sneaking out to a vending machine classifies as suicidal.” “Well it will if The Mage catches us.” Baz walked away from him, grabbing his wallet from the bedside table and headed to the door. As his hand clutched the door handle he turned to Simon, “You know that’s not actually his name right? It is vital to me that you know his name is not really The Mage.” Simon met him at the door with a slight hesitance, “Of course I know that.” Baz opened the door heading into the hall, “Mhm.”

So here they were, two English twats walking around a Parisian hotel in their bloody pyjamas and socks trying to find a vending machine. “Where did you say it was again?” Simon asked just as he reached the end of the hall. Baz looked at the deserted hall with a disgruntled look. “Well it was here.” “Oh yeah cause vending machines just vanish all the time. I bloody hate when they do that, damn.” “Right well it’s obviously somewhere near here.” The two began to walk to the other half of the hall which most likely held their sleeping classmates, growing less and less confident as they went.

“Look there! Baz there!” Simon pulled on Baz’s arm pointing to where the lifts were, tucked in an almost impossibly tight corner sat the machine. They went over to it and proceeded to buy as much as their hands could carry, this including salt and vinegar crisps, chocolate bars, bottles of Coke and Fanta as well as some sweet packets.

Simon went to take a step back out into the hall, following after Baz when he was forcefully pulled right back into the secluded alcove. Their bundles of late night snacks went tumbling to the floor as Baz pinned Simon to wall, his face mere centimetres from Simons. The taller boy pressed a single slim finger to Simon’s lips, resting there for a moment. Simon shuddered at the close proximity and touch to his face. It was cold but it in an oddly nice way? Like eating an ice-cream on a hot summer day. His eyebrows were raised and arms were shaking at the sudden movement. Baz looked directly at Simon, his eyes practically pleading.

Footsteps could be heard retreating until they disappeared, resulting in Baz stepping back from Simon with a relieved breath of air. “Don’t move until he’s gone for certain.” “Who?” “The Mage, he was heading into our direction when I um… yeah.” The two waited a few more moments before gathering up their supplies and heading back to their room, both too weary of any unsuspecting teachers to truly take in what just happened.

When they returned to their room the two ate their snacks in relative silence. Simon was shocked to see Baz actually eat as he quietly scarfed down his crisps, purposely facing away from Simon. Once they had sufficiently stuffed themselves, they both attempted to sleep, neither one having enough energy to set back up their pillow barricade. Simon lay on his back for what felt like hours, restless and unable to drift off.

Whenever he closed his eyes Baz’s eyes flooded his mind, their grey swarm consuming Simon. If he tried hard enough, he could still feel Baz’s breath on his cheeks and finger on lips. Despite the weird feeling it left in his stomach, he couldn’t truly say he hated it. In fact, he was actually quite happy it had happened. His thumb gently stroked the part of his lips Baz’s finger had rested upon just a couple hours ago, blissfully unware of the boy’s next to him, very much awake state. God he hoped this didn’t mean anything. He was probably just missing close contact. Ever since he and Agatha broke up, the only other physical interaction he would have was either from Penny or fighting with Baz, neither of which counted.

Yup that was definitely it. He was just touched starved. Definitely.

Day 3

The next day Simon did not in fact wakeup to a pillow to the face. Nope instead it was with a fucking punch to the face. Simon rolled over clutching his nose well Baz looked at him in utter shock. Simon’s yelp had stirred Baz awake, now causing them to simply stare at each other while an alarm begins to blare through the room. “Did you punch me?” Baz blinked an oddly innocent look on his face. “I… I don’t know.” It was at this moment that the two realised how close they had been sleeping next to each other. Baz’s arm was lying on top of Simon’s after falling from his face and feet were ever so slightly tangled. As though just realising this, they both jumped out of bed trying to put as much distance between them as they could. Simon scowled at Baz as though he had masterfully contorted their situation as a way to embarrass him, but judging by his equally horrified expression, that was certainly not the case. “That didn’t happen, agreed?” Baz relaxed. “Agreed.”

The two spent the next hour getting dressed, Baz throwing on a pair of chequered trousers and white shirt on, similar to the one from yesterday while Simon put on a pair of jeans and old football top he had found in the schools lost and found. They went downstairs like yesterday morning, meeting up with the rest of the group and went to grab some breakfast. This time the class went to one of them fancy places Simon had seen on the internet. For fear of destruction, The Mage made the teens sit outside to eat, worried if they actually went inside they would most definitely break something.

Outside the restaurant sat chairs that looked out into the street, allowing the students to be able to sit and watch passerbys. By some cruel fate, Simon ended up sharing a table with Penny and Baz with Agatha sitting between Devin and Gareth at another. Penny looked over the table with a giggle. “When will they leave her alone?” Simon, still miffed about the seating arrangement just grunted back. Penny rolled her eyes, picking a book out of her bag which quickly caught Baz’s attention. “I didn’t know you read Oscar Wilde’s stuff.” Penny looked up at the boy, obviously not expecting his curiosity. “Yeah! I just started reading Dorian Gray!” Baz looked over at her with a cheeky grin, “If you like I could give you the unedited version. It’s a lot more… true to the writer.”

Penny’s eyes lit up like a child on Christmas day, “Really?” “Sure. It’s always nice to have someone to share intellectual hobbies with.” Simon promptly ignored the two, instead focusing on watching a family of American tourists across the road.

Once food had arrived and Simon had sufficiently scoffed way too many sugary pastries, he was on just enough of a sugar high to let his mood improve. He and Penny would point at different rooms in the buildings in front of them, imagining what kind of people lived there and what they were doing right now. Soon Simon began to fantasize about his own life, here in Paris.

He pictured himself in one specific room his eyes had caught. The windows were almost wall length, leading out onto a plush white bedding. He pictured himself waking up there early in the morning before getting dressed and jumping on a little bike, weaving his way through the city. He pictured himself being free from the confines of London. He was tired of running away from his past, and now, after being, for the first time in his entire life, somewhere other than bloody London, let himself dream of something more. Just sitting here taking in the aroma of Baz’s coffee and Penny’s voice rambling excitedly next to him, it wasn’t hard to picture some sort of new life. One far away from The Mage and Watford. One where no adults could let him down ever again.

He was snapped out of his daydream by a squeal. He swivelled round to see Penny clutching her mug with a scream, a massive beaming smile on her face and dancing ever so slightly in her chair. Simon stared at her for a second in silence. Not wanting to kill her buzz, he turned to Baz with a raised eyebrow. The other boy smirked in response. “I was just informing Bunce of a lovely little bookshop I know of near Notre Dame.”

And that’s what lead the group to head to this odd bookstore before heading to Notre Dame with the rest of the class at around 2pm. As they made their way over to it Simon couldn’t help but wonder what got Penny so excited about this shop in particular. Sure his friend loved books but the joy on her face was something so utterly pure and childish, it had to be something extraordinary. Maybe it was massive, or really fancy? Either way Simon wasn’t all that fussed about it but if it kept Penny in such a good mood then he was happy to go. The only concern of Simon’s was this apparent cosiness her and Baz were finding each other in. They… okay Simon, had hated the git for bloody years yet the second he mentions books she goes and crosses to the dark side. Talking about old books and weird authors. Where was the loyalty?

As they grew closer and closer to the building Simon couldn’t help but feel completely underwhelmed. It was just like any other bookshop from the outside. The outside was painted in a deep green, and outside sat a small cart of books for passerbys. It wasn’t until he actually stepped into the shop that he truly understood the appeal. It was like stepping into something out of Harry Potter.

The place was seeping with magic. The walls were completely crammed with books, even on the stairs leading to the second the floor. With every step it felt as though entering another world. As though the thousands of books within the small building were leaking their stories out into the atmosphere. The soft lighting left a sense of comfort within silence. His fingers skimmed among books, his fingers capturing droplets of dust. He could hear the others as they rifled through books, the paper letting out a soft crunch as the old spines creaked open. He followed the stairs all the way up to the second floor with Baz following right behind, unaware of Simon’s presence as his eyes remain scanning the walls around him.

Simon found himself standing in front of an old typewriter sitting on an odd table among the world of books. His fingers danced around the keys under their tips. After a few minutes he began to wonder far into the store. In the corner of his eye once specific book caught his eye. He made his way over to it, gently pulling it out of its home and resting it into his hands. The cover was a faded red and the spine was brittle, almost like scales.

The pages shimmered a slight gold. The words on the cover had long vanished and the inside was utterly coated in dust. There were little dents and stains in it. Obviously at least one point in time being deeply loved. Simon opened the book, taking in its scent before flipping to the front page. Just before the story started, an illustration lay on the pages. A couple were illustrated, dancing in a forest. Neither of them were wearing shoes and both figures appeared to be laughing as they swayed. His eyes drifted to just under the drawing were some writing sat.

“My eyes must be deceiving me.” Simon whipped his head up to see Baz holding his phone in front of him, a quick flash emitting from it. “Did you just take a photo of me?” Baz examined his phone with a grin. “Just documenting the momentous occasion.” He retorted with an aggravating ease. “And what would that be?” Baz’s eyes shifted to the object in Simon’s hands. “The first time you ever opened a book.” Simon shoved the book back in its place huffing loudly. “Oh ha ha, hilarious.” “I thought so.”

Baz slowly made his way over to Simon, the storm in his eyes growing stronger by the second. Simon slowly took a step back, nervous of what he was going to do. Eventually Baz stopped right in front of him, their position mimicking that of last night. This sent a wave of terror through Simon. His hands began to sweat and body grew hot as Baz slowly raised his hand, wrapping it around Simon and plucking something from behind him. Baz’s arm returned in front of him, now holding Simon’s book. He examined the taller boy as he flicked through it, obviously curious as to why Simon was so intrigued. He stopped at the front page, taking in the little hand written message.

‘Dear my most cherished Delia.  
No matter the time, no matter the world, even when we’re resting far beneath the Earth. Let our love be imbedded in the words on this paper so that it may remain endless. Even when the pages are torn and the spin is broken.  
Your love and soul, Flo.’

Baz kept his eyes on the page for a moment, refusing to meet Simon’s eyes. Simon took a minute. He stood in the small Parisian store, taking in the words of lovers. Something about it felt wrong. As though he had just snuck into a strangers heart and pulled out their deepest secrets. He watched as Baz’s hand turned the book from page to page, only stopping when he had found what he had been looking for, “1926.” Simon was lost again, “What?” “This book, it was published in 1926. The person who wrote this message is long gone now.”

Well that’s away to ruin a mood. “Of course your mind goes straight to death.” Baz simply tutted going to put the book back but before he could Simon plucked it straight out of his hand, their skin touching ever so slightly causing that horrible feeling in Simon’s stomach. Probably hate. Yup, that was it.

He examined the book for a moment, wishing to buy it but one look at his wallet indicated he certainly didn’t have enough. With possibly the most regret Simon had ever felt in his entire left, he put the book back onto the shelf with a sigh. Deep in his gut, Simon couldn’t help but feel like he was meant to find that book. He just didn’t know why. Trying to put the book behind him, Simon trudged down stairs to meet up with Penny, leaving Baz up there all alone. The clock quickly reached 1:30pm leading the group to go back and meet the rest of the class.  
After what felt like hours of queuing, the class finally entered the large Cathedral. They were being led by a tour guide who couldn’t be more than three years older than Simon himself. He wore round large glasses and had scruffy brown hair. He spoke loudly in perfect English, obviously very passionate about the Cathedral as he told story after story, with each words his hands waving and gesturing madly around them.

They had just reached a large stained glass window which shone an array of bright colours onto the floor as Simon’s mind began to wander back to the book. No matter how hard he tried Simon just couldn’t forget it.

The words on the page felt so raw and so personal he was surprised anyone would give it up. Something like that didn’t deserve to sit forgotten in a shop, it should be shared in a home, with a family. So Flo and Delia’s love wasn’t forgotten. Anyway, if Simon was correct weren’t they girl names. So why was it addressed like someone was writing to their wife? Of course he knew same sex couples existed, of course he did. He guessed he had never gave it any real thought as to how that would have worked all those years ago. They definitely couldn’t have got married, and from what he had gathered from one of Penny’s many feminist rants, women were expected in the past to marry rich and rely on a husband for the rest of their lives.

So how did they manage it? Maybe they hadn’t. Maybe Flo was writing alone at her desk whilst her husband slept in the room next door. Maybe she hid the book amid her shoes before being able to send it to her Delia. Or perhaps they saw each other every day masking their close relationship as simply an adoring friendship. Whatever it was, Simon was utterly enthralled. Unconsciously, his eyes had travelled over to where Baz was standing, his face illuminated in hues of purple and blue. To have a love that burns so passionately that they would allow the flames to devour them without a second thought.

Once they had finished the tour, the class was given a little more free time leading Simon and what had now become their own little gang i.e. Baz, Peggy, Agatha, Rhys, Gareth, Devin and Niall, to set up a picnic in a nearby park. Simon and Peggy sat among the grass nibbling on strawberries and sandwiches they bought from a local shop. Around them music flowed through them as a band plucked at guitar strings and sung by a bench Agatha was sitting at with Baz.

They sat taking in the music and sun until Agatha beckoned Simon over, obviously wanting something. Curious, he made her way over to her, bringing his strawberries with him. She looked at him with a shy smile. Instead of saying anything, she simply pointed at the strawberries then her mouth, a laugh bubbling in her chest. Simon quickly catches on, breaking the stem off of a small strawberry and throws it at her. She catches it in her mouth with a large grin and giggle. “Told you I could do it.” Agatha directed her words to Baz. “Very impressive Wellbelove.” He turned to Simon with a glare, “You can go now Snow.” Agatha simply continued to chew her strawberry, leaving Simon pissed.

Just as he began to storm off an unfamiliar voice stated, “Hey Man United, can I have one too?” Simon looked down at his shirt, for a minute forgetting what he was wearing before turning around, only to realise it was the singer of the band he had watched, trying to get his attention. He was a tall bloke with dark hair and tanned skin. He had a thick accent as he spoke leaving some of his words hard to understand. He held himself high as he stared at Simon, waiting for a reply. “Uh sure!” Simon jogged over to the boy, holding the box open for him, a little hesitant as to why a bloody stranger was talking to him, “So… you a big Man U fan?”

The singer had just shoved a strawberry in his mouth, leaving a slight tine of red on his bottom lip, “Nah, just the only team I know.” Simon let out an awkward chuckle. “Fair enough. Your English is really good by the way.” The other boy blushed a little, shuffling his feet. The girl on his left holding a guitar let out a guffaw. He looked back up at Simon, his confidence quick to return, “I’m sure your French is just as good.” “Oh… uh… definitely.” “You can speak French, right?” The singer asked, an eyebrow raised and a playful tone. Simon rolled his eyes, his hand nervously scratching his arm, “Not a word.” The singer let out a boisterous laugh, patting Simon on the back as he got louder and louder. “Fair enough. I’ll tell you what. To thank you for your lovely strawberry I’ll play a song especially for you.”

Now Simon was the one blushing. To the side of him he could see Baz frowning at him, the moody git. Before he could reply, Agatha leapt up from her seat, walking over to the two with a wicked glint. “Simon would love that.”

Before he realised it, the band began playing a light-hearted tune, strawberry boy’s voice swaying around him in all of its deep glory.

Agatha had pulled Simon into some sort of spin as they began to dance around the park, utterly oblivious to strangers passing by. He held onto her hand tightly as Rhys and Gareth joined them, both doing some ridiculous dance moves that looked like they had been plucked right out of the eighties. Simon’s chest soared as the two stepped around each other, their hips swaying and heads bobbing along to the music. Unable to contain his happiness, Simon utterly beamed. Dancing here, in Paris while the sun beamed down on them, Simon felt the happiest he had all year. If he closed his eyes and tried hard enough he was able to imagine it was just him and Agatha, back before things had gone wrong. Just the two, swaying together in her living room after one too many mould wines and old Christmas tunes blaring threw the radio.

Just as he went to grab her hand, Baz appeared with his annoyingly smug face. The one he reserves solely for teachers and teasing Simon. “Mind if I cut in?” Simon had to think fast. He either let Baz dance with Agatha where she would quickly realise she was in love with him, they would get married and have hundreds of annoyingly beautiful babies or…. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Simon had grabbed Baz’s hand instead, pulling him into an exaggerated sway trying to ignore how stupid of a plan this was. “Dancing. Duh.” Baz glared at him, quickly catching onto the little game Simon was playing. Instead of fighting back he simply threw on that fake smile he oh so despised, grabbing Simon’s waist and leading the two in some sort of sway. Their bodies moved as a unit, legs parting and feet moving in the same direction. Simon clutched onto Baz’s shoulder, desperately trying to ignore how cruelly nice it feels to be held by the arsehole.

Baz looks directly into his eyes, as though urging Simon to back down muttering, “I can see we’re dancing. What I meant is what do you think you’re doing dancing with me of all people?” Simon’s knees grew weak as he practically whispered these words into his ear, his lips ever so slightly brushing his hair. He strengthened his grip on Baz’s shoulder for fear that if he let go, he would plummet into the soil and never get back up. Simon did not like what Paris was doing to him. He let out a quick cough trying to compose himself, “What, can’t I dance with my favourite roommate?” Baz pulled Simon closer, if that was even possible.

“I know what you are doing.” “I’m sure you do.” Baz spun Simon, “Yeah but I’m better at it.” With that he let go of Simon causing him to stumble. He looked up as he watched Baz slowly retreat over to where Agatha had been sitting watching the two.

Simon went to storm off again when the music stopped and a hand reached out to him. Once again strawberry boy stopped him from going off to sulk. “You okay.” Simon tried to let some of the hurt and anger leave his body, desperate to avoid to being further embarrassed. “Fine… just fine.” Strawberry looked at him with a look of disbelief. “Well I’m buying some ice cream. Want to come with?” What else did he have to lose? “Sure.” Strawberry’s face lit up. “Great.”

He dragged Simon over to the truck, ordering himself a vanilla ice cream before offering Simon a mint chocolate one, refusing to let Simon pay for it. One way or another, they found themselves sitting at a bench eating side by side. “So is he your boyfriend?” Simon chocked. He looked up frantically, throwing his ice cream around as his hands waved frantically in the air, “No, no, no, no, no, no.”

“Alright…. A friend?” Simon crossed his arms, “That git? Not a chance.” Strawberry boy licked his ice cream while he appeared to think for a moment. “So you’re not together? You seemed to really enjoy that dance.” This time Simon let out a shriek, sinking far into the bench. “Oh that was just us messing with each other. Baz and I, we’re not like that. We’ve hated each other since we were eleven.” Strawberry boy leaned in closer as though about to uncover some large conspiracy, “I’ll tell you one thing my friend. He certainly appeared to enjoyed that dance.” Before Simon could respond, for about the millionth time that day, Simon was interrupted, “Well anyway time to get back to singing.”

He held a hand out for Simon as he stood up, pulling him up with him. “My name is Theo by the way.” Simon let out a nervous laugh, realising he never thought to ask. “Simon.” “Well Simon I hope to see you around.” When Theo let go of his hand, Simon realised he had snuck a piece of paper in it. On it was the boy’s number.

Later in the evening the class travelled over the famous love lock bridge. Penny and Simon bought a small lock from a man sitting on the street. Together they stuck it onto the railing writing on it with a pen ‘Pen + Si’. In this moment Simon filled with pride, knowing he was standing in a brand new country with his best friend. But she was more than that to Simon, she was his sister.

Their friendship was unlike anything he had ever been able to imagine when he was younger. From the moment they met Simon felt almost protected. She was always there for him even when back in first year he was getting made fun of for being unable to read or write. Instead of teasing him, she would sit for hours with him in the school library teaching him these skills. She was even the first person to suggest to him his struggle with attention in class and hyperactivity could be ADHD rather than simply pinning him down to a problem child like everyone else.

Penny went back to the guy to buy another locket for Micah leaving Simon to sit and simply look at the view. Being surrounded by all this lovey-dovey stuff left his mind to stray back to earlier that day. He replayed his meeting with Theo over and over again. Was it possible the guy was actually flirting with him, and if so how did that make him feel? When Simon gave it enough thought, he decided he rather liked it. If he was being honest with himself he didn’t really have that strong of feeling towards the stranger but the thought of someone, a guy, actually liking him, well it felt kind of nice. Since first year he had been obsessed with Agatha and never really took into consideration that there were other options out there for him. Deciding to test whatever these new feelings were, Simon decided to text him. He sent a simple ‘Hey, it’s Simon.’ And switched the phone off not giving it much thought.

He tried to see if Penny was almost done but instead was met with a far worse scene. In front of him Agatha was holding a lock that Baz was doodling on. Simon was truly pissed at this. Where did Baz get off cosying it up with Agatha? Simon was convinced Baz didn’t really like Agatha, he was just using her to wind up Simon. But of course when he tried to explain his concerns to Agatha she just told him he was acting selfish. Simon’s frown was caught by Baz leading him to turn to Simon with a scowl shouting over, “Do you have a problem?” “Yeah I do, what are you doing with my girlfriend?” “Last time I checked, she hadn’t been your girlfriend for about a year.”

Simon knew that Baz was technically right. He should just let the two run off into the sun set together or whatever but every time he saw the two together it’s like all reason just flew out the window. “So?” “So why don’t you fuck off back to your new boyfriend and leave us alone.” Baz spat back at him. “What- he’s not- it’s not- just sod off.” “Why are you so invested in my love life anyway?” “Shove off like I give a shit about little Malcolm the second.” “Take that back.” “It’s not my fault your just daddy’s little brat. Don’t think I didn’t see you in that shop on our first day. What does daddy Pitch not let you dress yourself or something?” Simon knew he was pushing too far but he just kept going.

“You know nothing.” “I bet he doesn’t even give enough of a shit to dress you. Let me guess, a maid comes each morning with a new batch of clothes.”

Maybe he was going too far. “At least I could afford a bloody maid. What about you huh? What’s your plan Snow? We’re not in high school anymore, all that’s waiting for us is the real world. I’ve spent seven years working towards getting good qualifications so I won’t end up penniless in life. Unlike your parents.”

Never mind the tosser definitely deserved it. The rational part of his brain, which sounds a lot like Penny, was screaming at him, knowing he had crossed a line. Baz clearly wasn’t going to back down. If only Simon had learnt to shut his mouth. “You think you’re so fucking smart.” “Smart enough to know you’ll end up just like them.”

“Really?”

“Well I wouldn’t lose all hope, you could always go slut it up with your new musician boyfriend. I’m sure he would be happy to make you his little trophy wife. Now if only your mum was smart enough to do the same.” Simon saw fucking red.

He leapt at Baz tackling him to the floor and swinging punches. He tried to punch whatever he could reach, which annoyingly ended up being mostly Baz’s fucking arms. Baz flipped them so he was on top, spitting on Simon’s face and sending a hard blow to his stomach. Simon let out a howl of pain going to take a swing right back when Baz is pried off of him by The Mage. In the background he can hear what sounds like Penny shouting at them.

Simon is helped back up by Ebb where she picks him off the ground and drags him over to the other side of the bridge where she gives him a lecture. “Simon you cannot just go round beating up Baz every time he winds you up.” “The twat deserved it.” She gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I’m not saying he didn’t but you are now an adult. Soon you’re going to start looking like a blimming thug.” “As if half the people at this school don’t already think that about me.” “Well they’ll be right to if you keep this behaviour up.”

Simon looked down at the floor, clutching his stomach in pain. He didn’t want to fight with Baz, especially right now. Everything just felt so fucking confusing and he was angry. So bloody angry. Ebb grabbed both of his shoulders pulling him in for a hug and whispering, “Simon you’re a good kid and I hate watching you get hurt. But don’t test me, if you continue this behaviour trust me when I say you’ll be put on the next flight home.” “Okay. I’m Sorry.” “Good now let’s go and catch up with the rest of the class.” T

he two made their way back to everyone else with Simon feeling slightly embarrassed from his outburst. Once he go over there The Mage said they were going to have a serious talk when they got back to the hotel, and so they did.

Baz and Simon sat awkwardly in their hotel room with the Mage glaring at the both of them. “Right lads, I know you two are great students, I wouldn’t have you on this trip if you weren’t but the behaviour you have displayed these past few days have been an embarrassment to the entire school. When you come on a trip here I expect you to be acting as representatives of this school, a school that has been well respected for many years. I’m sorry to do this to you but an example must be made of the two of you.”

“What’s the punishment then?” Simon asked, growing more and more anxious. “I am sorry to say it but the both of you are not permitted to leave your room for the entirety of tomorrow. You both are in a busy city where your behaviours is growing increasingly concerning leading you to not only be a nuisance to those around you but also a danger to yourselves. What I should be doing is sending you straight back home but due to the trip being almost over, well there’s not really any point in that now is there.” Simon was gutted. He had tried so hard just to get on this trip and now he would be missing their last day in Paris. It wasn’t like he would ever have the money to come back here. He was utterly screwed, and it was all his fault.

Too ashamed with his behaviour and for fear of choking up if he spoke he simply nodded muttering a quiet ‘Sorry.’ Baz sat next to him silent, his arms crossed and staring down The Mage. “Right I’ll leave you two to work out some things. Have a good night boys.”

The second the door closed Baz got up, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. Simon, too annoyed to even attempt to patch things up right now quickly changed into his pyjamas, lay in bed and tried to sleep. It took around half an hour for Baz to join him, with neither of them falling asleep until much later into the night.

Day 4

At six am a useless beeping swarmed their room. Simon was not in the mood to be screeched at by a bloody phone this morning, so he decided to throw a pillow over his ears with a loud huff, like any reasonable person would, shouting, “Turn that off right now!” Beside him he felt a shifting in the covers then but a few seconds later a blissful silence encompassed them. Simon desperately tried to fall back asleep seeing as he had nothing better to do when he felt a painful jab in his side. He flinched, rolling further from the finger but too tired to truly retaliate. He resorted to trying to fall back asleep when this time he received what felt like a kick to his shin. “What the fuck?”

He felt a hand grab his arm as a warm voice travelled around his ear. “Snow.” Simon moved his head to face Baz, confused as to why the other boy was voluntarily speaking to him after last night. Unsure what to say he simply waited for him to continue. Baz was lying on his side facing snow with an arm covering most of his face. His breath was ragged and his hands twitched where they held onto his sleeve

. “I’m sorry.” Simon inhaled a sharp breath. His eyes frantically scanned the boy in front of him for any hint that he was joking. Instead he was met with an unfamiliar soft voice and furrowed brows. “Y… you are?” Baz let out a weak chuckle. “You’re making this difficult.”

Simon rolled his eyes, turning himself over when Baz’s hand that was still on his arm pulled him back. “I am truly sorry. I went too far.” Simon couldn’t take the view of Baz anymore as guilt flushed over him. Instead he laid on his back keeping his eyes on the ceiling. “It’s not your fault… I started it.” “I know but what I said, it wasn’t right.” Simon snuck a peak at the boy, “Then why did you say it.” “Because you were right.” “What?”

“You were right. I’m just like my father. The second my mother died leaving him alone with me, well I didn’t stand a chance. There was no love or empathy in the Pitch household from then on… or at least not towards me. Instead he turned me into his own little clone. Malcolm never wanted a child, he wanted an heir. The day my mother was killed he chose to focus all of his attention on insuring the bloodline was secure. Leaving me to be his own little fucking robot. Doing whatever daddy says. You were bloody right so I decided to do what I do best. Taunt you. But this time it wasn’t just me trying to insult you. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to feel how I did in that moment.” “Yeah well you done a pretty good job at that.”

Baz shrunk further into his pillow, unable to meet Simon’s eyes. “I thought by making you feel like shit that I would somehow feel better. But of course I didn’t…” he let out a weak laugh, “Instead it just made me feel worse. Fancy that.”

Simon thought over his words very carefully. He lay there taking it all in. He knew he wasn’t innocent in all of this

. Like Baz he meant to hurt the boy and for what? It wasn’t Baz’s fault for whatever Simon was going through right now. How could it be? How could he possibly know that watching Baz and Agatha run around Paris acting like a happy colour was causing such a raw pain in his chest that sometimes it felt as though every bit of air escaping his lungs were speckled with tiny shards of glass. How could he possibly know that Simon is terrified of this? The fact Simon has been hurting maybe longer than he even realised. And that despite this aching in the end he couldn’t even say he was jealous of Baz because he wasn’t. But then that put into question why did he hate the two together so much? Maybe what really hurt was that he knew that of course he wasn’t jealous of Baz because in reality who he was truly jealous of was far, far worse.

Because Simon was jealous of Agatha. “Let’s just forget yesterday ever happened.”

The two stayed in bed simply thinking for around twenty minutes until Simon had decided he had grown bored. He jumped out of the bed opening the curtains and stretched. Next to him Baz gave a groan. “It’s too early for light.” Simon gave a chuckle, as he stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Once he closed the door he pressed his back firmly to it and slid down onto the floor letting out a large puff of air. This was all too much to take in first thing in the morning. First off, Baz was actually not being a prat to him? That was new. Simon didn’t know ‘sorry’ was even in the boy’s vocabulary. Then there is his new found issue. He may be an eency weency bit attracted to this dick. Brilliant. Simon had done many stupid things in his life but falling for this git definitely topped the list. Especially after the stunt he pulled yesterday. Trust him almost murdering the boy be just what he needed to come to terms with the fact he actually liked him.

He eventually got off the tile floor, this time actually going to brush his teeth. As he looked into the mirror he couldn’t help but laugh. It started off as a light giggle until it quickly dissolved into pure absurdity. He had spit dripping from his chin and his chest physically ached from the loud laugh escaping him. The door beside him let out a heavy thump as Baz on the other side shouted over, “Snow you better not have gone bloody insane in there.” Instead of giving a response, Simon just laughed louder and louder, tears pouring out his eyes. “Oi this isn’t funny! What is going on in their!” Another laugh escaped Simon. “You are an utter maniac.” Maybe he was. Here he was in the city of love and Simon had managed to fall for his nemesis.

Now what? Should he just keep pretending to hate him? Shouldn’t be too hard, Baz is still a twat… just now Simon can acknowledge his is a very attractive twat. Maybe they could try to be civil. Like some sort of truce. That was it! A fucking truce.

Simon unlocked the door, swinging it open with a large grin on his face and toothpaste smeared over his shirt. Baz was standing in front of him, a look of fear in his eyes after Simon’s dramatic entrance. Simon threw his hand out in front of Baz, hand awaiting a shake, stating proudly, “Truce!” Baz raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Come on, you and me, a truce.”

“Why?”

Shit, how should he explain this? “Well…. Um… because. Oh! Because it’s our last day in Paris and then we’re heading back home and I don’t want us murdering each other in fields and shit back in Watford.” “… Fields and shit?” “Well yeah! Think about all the places you could hide a dead body there. In fields, in a forest…. In um… places. Anyway if something like yesterday happens again then the Mage is definitely going to rat you out to your dad.” Maybe he should have started with that.

Baz kept on staring for a minute. Then two minutes. Then three. Finally he shook his head and a small smile crept on his lips. “Fine. But I am not shaking your hand.” “What? Why?” Baz turned away from him making his way to the bed again. “Because it’s dripping with bloody toothpaste.”

Well, that was that sorted. Simon joined Baz back on the bed, not really sure what to do now. He grabbed the remote and decided to flick through the TV only to discover all the shows were in French. Guess that makes sense since he was in France. After a few minutes of messing around he finally managed to get English subtitles on and decided to spend his morning watching cartoons. Next to him Baz let out a snort. Simon watched as Baz got up from the bed and made his way to the room’s phone. He picked it up and called someone, his eyes never leaving Simon’s. “Hi, I would like to order two plates of croissants, a bowl of fruit, a plate of crepes as well as an orange juice and a-” he stuck his hand over the phone as he asked Simon, “What would you like to drink?” Awe struck Simon let out a quick, “Uh milk.”

Baz directed this back to the phone then hung up and joined Simon back on the bed. “Who the fuck drinks plain milk you cretin.” “Sod off. Who were you on the phone with?” “Take a guess.” Simon tried to think for a minute. Maybe it was Dev or Niall… it better not have been Agatha. Of course it was. That would just be his bloody luck. While Simon grew all too consumed in his self-destructive thoughts, Baz grew bored of the interaction, instead choosing to give Simon a light hit to the back of his head stating, “Room service you dafty.”

It is important to note that Simon had never been to a hotel and barely watched any TV other than Doctor Who and The Inbetweeners, leading him to have not a single clue as to what on earth room service was. By the name of it, one could only assume service to mean something slightly sexual. At least that is where is teenage boy mind went. By the horrified look on Simon’s face, Baz clearly picked up on this letting out an all too rare, genuine laugh, clutching his stomach ass he shouted, “Bloody hell Snow. They deliver food to your room not bloody prostitutes.” That made so much more sense.

Wait, “Did you just order me breakfast?” Baz simply shrugged not meeting Simon’s eyes, a slight brush on his face, “We’re on a truce right?” Fucking hell, Simon really might be falling for this prick.

The two sat with their feast of food watching TV for a good hour as the morning sun illuminated their room. Baz sat facing the wall while he nibbled on a piece of fruit, intriguing Simon. “Have you got an eating disorder?” Baz chocked on an apple piece, spluttering over their bed, “I beg your pardon.” “Well I realised recently that I had never really seen you eat until this trip and when you do you always face away from people when you do.” “And that would make me anorexic… how?”

“Well I dunno maybe it was some like weird food thing that only 5% of the world have.” “Snow listen carefully when I tell you this. I absolutely do not have an eating disorder.” “Then why don’t you eat in front of people?” Baz put his bowl down with a sigh, shifting so he was facing Simon once again. “Back when I was younger my father used to give me into trouble for being a terribly messy eater and the habit just kind of followed me my whole life.”

“So you’re embarrassed?” “Not just that. Sometimes his punishments for it would be… quiet extreme. Imagine his humiliation at formal dinners. Anyway to avoid further ridicule, it’s just easier if no one sees me making a fool of myself.” Simon passed Baz his bowl back with a smile, “Well I promise not to laugh if you get food everywhere, I mean look at my shirt.” Baz lowered his eyes onto Simon’s shirt where a large dollop of milk had spilled causing a white stain.

The two resumed eating, this time both facing the TV when something hit Simon. “Hang on! Why do you make fun of me for making a mess when I eat then?” Instead of offering a response, Baz simply grabs a pillow from behind him and whacks Simon with it muttering something about him being an idiot.

Just as Simon bit into his last piece of apple he let out a dramatic sigh. Baz ignored him. Simon leant back on the bed so his face was right next to Baz’s lap as he let out another sigh. Baz ignored him again. His mouth opened wide ready to let out another sigh when Baz slapped his hand over the area shouting “Shut up!”

Simon tried to reply but instead it came out as a wet muffle. Annoyed at the predicament, Simon tried to peel his hand off his mouth to no avail, instead Baz simply pressed harder. Eager to be able to talk again, he made the smart decision to lick Baz’s hand, causing the taller boy to promptly retreat with a disgusted screech. Simon swelled with pride as he watched Baz wipe his now spit infested hand on the bed.

“What I was trying to say before you rudely muffled me was that right now we would be at the louvre.” After Baz had thoroughly wiped his hand of Simon’s germs, he joined the boy in lying down on the bed with a sigh. “I guess we would be.” The two sat staring at each other, both unsure what to say when Simon grabbed Baz like the boy had done to him just hours before. “I’m sorry too.” Baz nodded, a grin creeping up on his face. “God, we’re idiots aren’t we?” “Speak for yourself.” Simon retorted, a light feeling of joy filling him. Sadly their moment of peace was promptly interrupted by his phone buzzing.

Baz being the prat he is, picked it up keeping his arm outstretched away from Simon. “Oi pass it over.” Baz rose his arm higher out of Simon’s grasp with a chuckle. “Come get it.” Simon went to sit up and grab it but a heavy hand held him back pinning him to the bed. Baz leant over him with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Surely you can do better than that.” Simon flipped the two over so Baz was now the one being pinned. “You’re right I can.” He remained over the boy for minute taking in the view. They stared at each other, a sense of comfort passing over Simon as he took in Baz’s shy smile and messy hair. The sun lit up their bedroom leaving Baz’s usually pail skin to be illuminated in a honey like tone.

A warmth pooled at the bottom of his stomach as the two held onto each other. Simon felt himself leaning closer and closer when his phone began to ring again. With a jolt of surprise, Simon let go of his hold on Baz causing him to crash on top of him with a loud “Ooph.” Simon’s head crashed right into Baz’s chest. Without bothering to move, Simon plucked the phone out of Baz’s hand answering the call with a winded “Hello?” Below him Baz frowned as he tried to heave Simon off him, but he found their situation all too funny for him to want to budge.

On the other side of the phone a strongly accented voice replies, “Simon, its Theo! Me and my friends are having a small concert tonight if you and was wondering if you and your friends would like to go? If you’re allowed that is.” Simon looked at Baz as though asking for permission. He nodded slowly leaving Simon to respond, “Uh… Sure!” “Brilliant! It’s at ‘The Cave’, right near the park we met. Think you’ll be able to get there alright?” “Definitely! What time does it start at?” “Around 10:30 tonight. Right I’ve got to go but can’t wait to see you there!”

The call ended leaving Simon to sit and mull over his own stupidity. Of course they couldn’t go to that. For one he and Baz have been practically banished to their room, and second, how the fuck would they be able to sneak past The Mage? Under him, Baz let out a grunt finally managing to push the other boy off.

“I need to find something to wear?” Simon sat up in shock, “We can’t actually go.” Baz let out a tut as he opened his suitcase. “Of course we can. Obviously we’ll need to come up with some sort of plan but that can wait until I find an appropriate outfit.”

Is he mental? “Are you mental?” Baz stood up and looked over to Simon with an oddly fond look. “Hey, it’s our last day in Paris and we’re spending it trapped inside a bleeding hotel room. Might as well seize the day, well night, and do something fun.” “Why am I the logical one in this conversation?” “Look with mine and Bunce’s brains together, I am sure we can come up with something.” “That is if she agrees to this.”

She agreed.

Mission sneak out to a concert in the middle of Paris was ago. In order for this to be successful they had to come up with a full proof plan. At around 2pm, Simon and Baz face timed the rest of the gang while they were eating lunch. Here they came up with a five step plan.  
1) Acquire Simon an appropriate outfit. It was Baz’s job to dress his fashionably blind friend so he doesn’t feel embarrassed being seen in public with the buffoon. Thank whatever god existed that Baz was ever so slightly eccentric and therefore packed thousand pounds worth of outfits.

2) Sneak out. The mage had planned to do room checks at 9:30 tonight due to the class getting an early flight home the next morning leaving them to all be in bed especially early tonight. They would pretended to all be asleep and after the Mage had checked each person’s room they would send a message to their newly created group chat. Once Agatha and Penny’s room had been checked (i.e. the last room in their hall) they would wait five minutes before meeting downstairs in reception.

3) Somehow make it to the concert venue without getting lost in Paris at night.

4) Make sure everyone makes it back to the hotel without getting murdered and or caught.

So step one was ago.

Laid out on their bed were an array of outfits, one even included a bloody dress. Simon looked at everything with an eyebrow raised. “There is no way I’m wearing any of this.” Baz whipped his head up from a specific sheer shirt he had been eyeing, “Yes you most certainly are.”

Simon stared at the clothes with clear discomfort. Simon had never been surrounded by so many expensive items in his entire life. Coming from living off of second hand items and whatever he could find in the lost in found, having such extravagant items in front of him at this moment left Simon feeling almost embarrassed. Anyway, why was Baz allowed to throw away money on meaningless items when Simon could barely afford a fish supper?

Baz began to pull large amounts of clothing into his hands. He turned to Simon with a deadpanned expression, “Right, strip for me.” Simon spluttered and choked on his own spit. “Excuse me?” “We’re both big boys Snow, come on try these on.” “Not happening.” Baz tutted as he shoved the pile into Simon’s arms before chucking him into the bathroom.

“Okay your fucking majesty. Put these on and I can assess.” “I am not throwing a fashion show on for you.” “Yes you are.”

Simon closed the door with a loud huff, roughly putting the clothes on with sharp pulls and tugs and one too many grunts. He examined himself in the mirror with one word entering his mind. Twat. He looked like a twat. He wore a tank top that was lilac and silk as well as jeans that were far too bloody tight. He walked out of the room only to be met with Baz trying to turn music on the radio on. He span round facing Simon with a giggle. “Nope, definitely not. Right take this.”

He handed Simon another pile of clothing, directing him back to the bathroom with the distinct sound of the start of Avril Lavigne’s ‘What the Hell’ playing in their room. This time Simon stepped out dressed in a dark blue button down and black trousers. “Fucking hell that shirt is tight.” Simon gave a chuckle as he struggle for air through the shirt, careful not to burst a button.

This time Baz passed him a fairly light pile. Once the clothes were on Simon admired his reflection for a moment. In the other two outfits Simon couldn’t help but feel as though he was playing dress up in his hypothetically dad’s suits whereas this time he actually felt… good. He was wearing a soft grey shirt with an almost rounded collar. Underneath that sat a pair of light blue trousers tied together with a thin silver belt. He stood tussling his hair trying to almost style it, a light smile on his face and blush on his cheeks. Once he finally felt satisfied with his appearance, Simon stepped out into the room trying to hide his obvious joy.

Across from him Baz stood and stared leaving Simon to feel like more of a twat than he already had that day. Getting more flustered by the second Simon turned back around ready to stomp back into the toilet. Just as his hand reached the door knob two hands pulled him back. He was flung round so he was face to face with a grinning Baz. “Bloody hell Snow, I’ve fucking outdone myself with this one.” He stepped back admiring his work with an all too chuffed look. “So I look alright?” Baz clapped his hands in joy, “You look fantastic- uh I mean the clothes look fantastic.” “You think so?” “Definitely.” Simon hugged sides feeling slightly bashful.

“What are you wearing then?” “Not a bloody clue.”

After remembering he was supposed to actually be getting dressed, Baz rushed over to his suitcase once again. He started pulling things out left right and centre in a very un-Baz like way. Simon bent down next him, looking over the array of clothing with a grin. “How do you own so many clothes?” “Well… I’m actually interested in fashion.” “You are?” “Not really a secret. You have seen my clothing in the past couple of day’s right?” “Huh. I just thought rich people automatically had nice clothes.” “Rich people usually have expensive clothing, that doesn’t always equal ‘nice’.” Simon decided to have a peak at the inside of the suitcase, joining Baz in his rummaging.

He plunged his hand into it, feeling around until his fingers brushed onto something almost velvet like. He yanked the item out only to find a floral corset style top with off the shoulder white baggy sleeves. The clothing looked like something straight out of a Shakespeare play. It was beautiful. “What about this?” Baz’s shoulders hunched at the sight of the top. He slammed it out of Simon’s hand with a force that actually caused Simon pain, “Drop that now.” “What the fuck?” “Just leave it Snow.” “Oh come one Baz, you clearly packed it for a reason.”

“Fiona must have snuck it in there.” “Who?” “My aunt. She thinks she can convert me into some sort of rebel.” “What’s so rebellious about flowers?” “Rebellious against my father.” Now it was starting to make sense. When Simon thought about it, the piece of clothing actually reminded him of the stuff in the shop he had stalked Baz in the other day. “Well, would you like to wear it?” Baz’s eyebrows furrowed as he chewed on his lip. “I means I guess. But if my dad saw me in it he would probably disown me. He’s not really a corset kind of man.” “Please don’t make me picture your dad in this.”

“Okay I’ll stick it on.” With that sorted, next came step two.

When Simon received the text from Penny telling them The Mage had left their room, Baz and Simon prepared their escape. The two slipped on their shoes, Baz in a pair of dress shoes and Simon a pair of dusty grey trainers. They creeped along the hall giving each other small jabs trying to make the other laugh. Once they had made their way into the lift they let out a relieved sigh.

Simon let his eyes fall on Baz with a sense of content. “This is mental.” Baz leant over ruffling Simon’s hair, “Oh definitely.” When they reached the reception Simon could feel himself growing more buzzed by the second. He ran over to Penny with a large hug whispering loudly, “Penny! It’s been so long. I forgot what your wee face looked like.” “Simon it’s been less than a day.” “It’s been so long!” He reiterated.

Niall gave Baz an elbow to the side chuckling, “If he seems hyper now think about when he has alcohol in him.” Simon shot his eyes over to the ominous bag dangling from Agatha’s hand, “How’d you manage that?” “Oh it was easy. On the way home I pretended to be having ‘lady problems’ and before The Mage could even question it I jumped into a corner shop for ‘supplies’. Merlin knows he was too embarrassed to dare check what I bought.” Agatha stated. Beside Her Gareth replied, “She’s bloody brilliant.”

Baz stood in front of the crowd directing them out of the door, “Right lads I say it’s time we make our move.”

The group walked through the Parisian streets with Baz leading them, following google maps with utter precision. At the back of the pack walked Simon and Peggy. “So… you and Baz huh?” Simon had just taken a large swig of cider causing him to choke. “What?” “Oh come on Simon, I’m not thick. What’s going on between you two? I mean coming up with master plans and sneaking out together? That is not the Simon and Baz I know.” “We decided to call a truce.” “You did?”

“Well yeah. After yesterday we thought it would be the best decision really. I mean it was either that or we get kicked out of the holiday.”

Penny turned to Simon a smirk taking over her face, “Now if only you had done this years ago.” “Oh shush.”

Once they had reached the venue it is fair to say the group were rather inebriated.

Simon ran into the venue tugging Penny and Agatha along with him. Inside it was already fairly busy but with a good amount of tugging and pushing he managed to get them right to the front. The band was due to come on stage at any moment leaving a certain buzz to take over the venue. They stood in a fairly large room with a bar to the left. In front of them stood a stage with nothing but a few microphones and a drum kit sitting on it. The audience were coated by the warm lighting creating an intimacy within the venue. Behind him stood Baz as well as the others.

When the band finally arrived on stage Simon made direct eye contact with Theo, the former sending a wink over to the boy. Soon lyrics were being sung and the concert had begun. The second Theo began to sing, Simon started to shout and cheer trying to show enthusiasm for his new friend. He grabbed Penny’s wrist and began to spin her, the two dancing together in a clumsy rhythm. By the fourth song Simon could feel the buzz fully setting in as he grew more parched.

He pulled Baz so he was write behind him before leaning back and shouting in his ear, “D’you want to grab a drink with me?” “Sure!” Baz replied, dragging the boy out of the crowed and to the bar where they ordered two pints which they quickly guzzled off at the side. Simon leant against Baz as he tried to catch his breath, the coolness of the other boy’s body helping with his frankly sweaty state. Deciding he rather liked being this close to the other boy he decides to ask him, “Want to hang at the back and dance.”

Baz looked at him with a shocked expression before guzzling the rest of his drink with a sly grin, “Sure, it was getting a little claustrophobic over there anyway.” “Good.” Simon tightly held onto Baz’s hand, pushing him back into the crowd, this time in a slightly less cramped area where they began to stumble in some sort of drunken dance. Simon held on closely to Baz as he pressed their bodies together and leant his head onto the other’s shoulder. He placed his hand onto Baz’s hips, his fingers stroking the soft velvety material.

“Definitely a good idea.” “What was?” Baz asked in a fond voice. “This Shakespearian thing.” “The corset?” “Yup! You look like that person. You know the one.” “Hm, what one.” “You know that tragic lovers one.”

“Romeo?” “Nope… Juliet! Mhm, you’re like Juliet.” “Of course I am.”

The two continued to sway for what felt like hours, their bodies growing closer and closer. At some point the band began to play a slow song leading Baz to dramatically dip Simon, leaving the two to giggle loudly. When the two reconvened Baz spun Simon around so he was back to their earlier position with Simon standing in front of him. The two swayed to the music, their movements following the slow rhythm of the song. Simon leant back into Baz’s ear and whispered a quiet, "Let's get out of here.” “Won’t your new friend be disappointed?” Simon placed his hand back on Baz’s hip, “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Soon Baz was off to find Penny and let her know they were heading back early while Simon grabbed their coats.

The two met up at the door, linking arms and leaning onto each other for support as they made their way back outside. Baz placed an earphone in each of their ears so they had music to listen to as they went on their drunken stroll. Simon leant his head on Baz’s shoulder with a sigh, “I like this.” “Like what?” “This. Us.” “I… I like this too Simon.”

They walked along the river chatting and singing for what felt like hours until coming across the park they visited earlier. The two make their way to the top of the hill and lay under a tree using their coats as pillows. Above them the sky was illuminated with stars. Feeling bold, Simon grabbed hold of Baz’s hand and held it up to his heart. “I wish we could stay here forever.” “Yeah… me too.”

“Hey Baz?” “Yeah?” “I don’t have parents.” Baz sat bolt upright a look of confusion on his face, “What?” “This morning you opened up to me about yesterday and well it’s only fair I do the same. It does piss me off when you make them jokes about my family being neds and stuff but not for the reason you thought. I don’t actually have a family. I used to jump from home to home but when I started at Watford they let me sleep in one of the teacher rooms they have. So um yeah. I’m sorry for always taking things too far. It’s not fair of me to get so pissed off at you when you don’t even know why you’re hurting my feelings.” Simon replied pulling him back down.

“Snow I am-” “You called me Simon earlier.” “No I didn’t.” “Yes you did.” “Well, Simon, I am so sorry. I… shit I had no idea.” “Good, do you know how much bloody effort it took to hide that shit from you for seven years?”

Baz turned over so he was kneeling over Simon and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry.” Simon took a sharp intake of breath letting all the Bazness consume him. He gripped tightly onto his shirt trying to make sense of his scrambled thoughts. At a loss for words Simon decides to do the next best thing. He gently places his lips onto the boy’s neck and kisses it. Baz simply sat there, relishing in the warmth for a moment before pulling away from him.

“Nope, we are not doing this here.” “Why not?” “Come on you oaf.”

Simon let himself be pulled back up before soon being dragged out of the park and back to the hotel.

Once the two entered the hotel room they quickly shredded off their coats and shoes and hopped into bed being met with a pleasant warmth. They lay side by side once again holding hands until Simon decided he was rather bored of just sitting, instead pulling himself on top of Baz with a grin.

“Hi.” Baz looked up at him with a look of utter joy. “Hi.” Before he could give it another thought, Simon leant down pressing his lips onto Baz’s with a sigh. He placed his hands at the back of his head, letting his fingers ruffle the usually perfect hair. Underneath him Baz clutched onto his arms, eager to deepen the kiss, opening his lips further and allowing Simon to take charge.

They stayed wrapped in the covers in a makeshift embrace with their kiss slowly growing more and more heated.

Soon Simon was taking off his shirt and Baz’s hands were on his torso. “This is so much better than fighting.” “Simon?” “Yes.” “Shut up.”

Baz pulled him into another deep kiss. He kissed along Simon’s neck, making sure not to miss a single mole. Simon in turn left small pecks along his jawline, and fuck was it a good jawline. This was definitely better than fighting. He liked having Baz like this, unguarded and letting him be in control. Everything just felt right. It might have been the alcohol talking but no matter how hard he tried, Simon couldn’t bring himself to regret a single second of this.

During kisses they would often have to stop when one of them fell into a fit of giggles but altogether it was bloody perfect. Their kisses began to grow slower as a wave of tiredness took over them. Just as Simon was nodding off, he wrapped his arms tightly around Baz letting their legs tangle together and whispered into a now asleep Baz’s ear,

“Even when the pages are torn and the spine is broken.”


End file.
